Mash-It Mack
by TRikiD
Summary: Tired of being the infamous bad guy, Mash-It Mack abandons his game to become a hero and finally get the praise he always wanted. But will Mack really find what he was looking for, or will he face the dire consequences of game jumping?
1. Chapter 1 - Meet Mash-It Mack

**The following is a fan-based parody. Cars and Wreck-It Ralph belong to Disney and Pixar, and all original video game characters belong to their rightful owners. Please, support the official release.**

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Mash-It Mack

Chapter 1 - Meet Mash-It Mack

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"My name's Mack…aaand I'm a bad guy. Let's see, um, I'm twelve feet tall, and weigh eighty thousand pounds. I've got a bit of a temper, I'll admit…m-my passion bubble's a _little_ near the surface. What else? Well, I'm a masher. I mash things, professionally. If something needs mashed, bashed, or grounded to a pulp, I'm your truck. But my only problem is that 'fixing' is the name of the game. Literally, 'Fix-It Mater Junior'. So, obviously, the character named Fix-It Mater is the good guy. Mater's pretty cool, as far as good guys go, and fixes stuff really well. But when you inherit a magic tow cable from your father, how hard can it be? Seriously, if he were your regular tow truck or service vehicle or whatever, he would _never_ be able ta fix the damage that I do. See, my game goes somethin' like this…"

 _A red Mack truck with green eyes, wearing a tattered tracker's cap labeled "Masher", chipped paint and numerous dents sleepily drives under the roof of his makeshift and tacky lean-to in a peaceful forest, and he yawns and stretches before beginning to sleep the night away._

 _But just when he starts to fall asleep, a frightened herd of bulldozers stampedes through the forest and accidentally pushes the Mack and his lean-to, carrying them both with them for a great distance. When they finally let go, the truck and his lean-to are left at the gates of a large city dump, and the Mack truck begins to stir from his very heavy slumber._

 _And when he realizes that he is no longer in his tranquil home, he suddenly screams and stomps his tires in utter anger. Looking for something or someone to blame, the red hauler eventually finds a humble little town called 'Nice Land', and at the center of it all was the tallest building with hundreds of different rooms._

 _This building was the Nice Land Hotel, the most popular building in the area; inhabiting it was a majority of the population known as the Nicelifts. The Nicelifts was an adorable little race of forklifts that lived in Nice Land, serving as background characters._

 _When the Mack truck saw some of the Nicelifts drive into their luxurious home without a care, he was instantly infuriated. Driving at top speeds, the large truck made his way to the Nice Land Hotel to do some mashing. As soon as he found an access ramp, he quickly drove upwards to get to the top._

 _But halfway up the building, one little black and white Nicelift stuck his cab out of a window to see what the ruckus was, and he immediately regretted his curiosity when he was suddenly pulled out of the building by the red hauler, and then thrown all the way to the edge of the map afterwards._

 _"_ _Fix it, Mater!" the Nicelifts inside the building cried once the Mack continued upwards, and their prayers did not go unheard._

 _Mere seconds after their screams of terror, an old and partially rusty, light blue tow truck drove onto the scene; he had cheerful green eyes, his hood was missing, and he had large buck teeth that protruded far out from his mouth. But the most obvious feature on the tow truck was the glimmering golden hook and tow cable on his back, which swayed with eagerness to clean up this masher's mess._

 _"_ _Ah can fix it!" Mater announced fearlessly with a strong hillbilly accent, and he instantly began fixing the building. With a few yanks of his magic hook, glass shards from broken windows and brick pieces from holes in the walls were quickly pieced back together, good as new._

 _"_ _Yoo-hoo!" a female light purple Nicelift with glasses shouted from her window, placing a freshly-baked pie on the windowsill. As soon as Mater heard her, he jumped from window to window to get to the pie and immediately consumed it._

 _Once the pie was completely eaten, Mater's golden hook rapidly flashed blue and white, and his speed was greatly enhanced as he darted across the building in a blue blur. The tow truck quickly made his way to the top, fixing every single hole and broken window on the way, until he finally reached the raging masher at the top._

 _The red hauler stopped mashing for a split second to glare down at the much smaller tow truck, allowing him to uppercut him with his hook and grab his front axle, flipping the Mack truck over onto his roof. With the villain dazed and defeated, all of the Nicelifts joined Mater on the roof and swarmed him with cheers and hugs; one of the female Nicelifts even gave the tow truck a little thank you kiss._

 _Then, from out of the sky, a bright golden medal, even brighter than Mater's hook, came falling down and its blue strap landed squarely around his tow cable. And with the hero declared a winner, the Nicelifts immediately turned their attention to the still-dazed masher, and they all worked together to lift him up and throw him off the edge of the building for revenge._

 _Falling helplessly, the red Mack screamed and flailed around until his fall was broken by a large puddle of mud near the base of the building. And up on the roof, the Nicelifts and Mater cheered with another day saved by the said heroic tow truck, and that the villain was once again put in his place._

"Yeah so, when Mater does a good job, he gets a medal. But other medals for destroying stuff really well? Ta that, I say ha! …A-and no, there aren't. Oh, boy…I've been doin' this for thirty years…but I guess I shouldn't be complaining, especially considering the other games that come and go so easily from Hudson's Arcade Center. I mean, those guys from Asteroids? Ooh, gone! Centipede? Ford knows where that guy is. And look, keeping a steady arcade gig's nothin' ta sneeze at! I'm _very_ lucky! But…it's just that…it's kinda hard ta love your job when no one seems ta like you for doing it."

Mack sighed. "I guess I wouldn't say all this if it weren't so bad after work, but it is the way it is. Ya know, Mater and the Nicelifts go ta their homes, which was just fixed by Mater and everything. And then I go ta my home, which happens ta be…a dump. And I don't mean a dump, as in, a shabby, run-down place! I mean an _actual_ dump! Bricks, glass shards, broken building parts, that's-that's what I call home. And it may look incredibly uncomfortable, but it's actually fine. I mean, I got my bricks, I still got my lean-to, so, ya know…but…if I'm real honest with myself, I'm a little jealous. I'll look up and see Mater, Nicelifts will stop by, givin' him pats on the back, delicious pie, thank yous. And I'll say ta myself…man, it sure must be nice bein' the good guy."

Mack opened his eyes and was pulled from his little sob story when a round of applauding stomping tires filled the room, as he glanced around and remembered where he was: Bad-Anon. Bad-Anon was a meeting held in the ghost room of Pac-Car by Clyde the orange ghost plane every week, meant to help and reassure the bad guys in the arcade.

"Nice share, Mack," Clyde commented dryly, floating above the ground despite his propellers turning very slowly, "Us fellow bad guys, we've all felt what you're feeling, and we've come to terms with it."

Mack was now slightly more focused and interested in what his bad guy friends had to say. "R-really?"

"Right here!" called one of the bad guys, a large monster truck with blood red paint and spiked monster wheels, "I am Zangief, I am bad guy!"

"Hi, Zangief!" all of Bad-Anon politely greeted.

"Hi, Zangief," Mack added hesitantly.

"I relate to you, Mack. When I hit bottom, I crush car's cab like sparrow egg between my axles," Zangief explained with confidence while extending and slamming one of his back tires to show off his thick axles, earning rolled eyes of annoyance from Bowser, the large, spiked green truck who was parked next to him.

"Then I think, 'Why do you have to be so bad, Zangief? Why can't you be more like good guy?'" Mack leaned in and nodded slowly, even more focused. "But then I have moment of clarity. If Zangief is good guy, who will crush car's cab like sparrow egg between axles?"

Zangief once again showed off his large axles to emphasize his point. "And I say, 'Zangief, you are bad guy, but this does not mean you are _bad guy_.'"

The other bad guys started stomping their tires for the inspirational words, but poor Mack was still in the dark.

"Right…I'm sorry, ya just…ya lost me there," Mack admitted dumbfounded.

"Zombie! Bad guy!" another bad guy, an undead dark green forklift with oil and blood-stained hatchets in his forks, parked next to Mack groaned.

"Hi, Zombie!"

"H-hi, Zombie."

"Zangief say labels not make you happy! Good! Bad! Aaaaggghh!" the zombie forklift announced while flailing his hatchets, and then he leaned against Mack's large wheel, "You must love you."

"Yeah! Inside HERE!" Cyborg, a larger silver forklift with extended razor-sharp forks and one robotic laser eye, parked next to Zombie shouted and popped open the undead forklift's bonnet to pull out his battery. But already being dead, Zombie just gazed and laughed at his battery as it rapidly leaked oil.

"Uh, yeah! Ok, ok, ok! I getcha! But ya might wanna put that back, i-it's dripping!" Mack whimpered and backed away from the gross vital part, as Cyborg chuckled darkly and waved it around for everyone to see before finally putting it back in Zombie.

"Question, Mack," Clyde calmly piped up once the commotion stopped, "We've been asking you to Bad-Anon for _years_ now, and tonight you finally show up. Why is that?"

"I dunno, I just felt like comin'," Mack replied nonchalantly, lightly scratching his fender, "I mean, I suppose it might have ta do with the fact that, uh…well, taday is the thirtieth anniversary of my game."

Mack's fellow bad guys cheered and congratulated him, most of them wishing him a happy anniversary.

"Happy Anniversary, Mack," Satine, a crimson Ford F150 with large devil horns and a dark purple cape, commented while patting the masher's side.

"Thanks, Satin," Mack thanked with a sigh.

"Uh, i-it's 'Sa- _teen_ ', actually," Satine calmly corrected.

"Got it. But here's the thing…" Mack took a deep breath in and nervously fidgeted in his spot. "I don't wanna be the bad guy anymore."

Shocked gasps and nervous murmuring immediately filled the room, and even Bowser did a fire-ball spit-take of his coffee, as well as Clyde turning blue and making his panic face.

"Ya can't mess with the program, Mack!" Cyborg warned.

"You're not goin' Miles, are you?" M. Bison, a much smaller red and black Semi truck with soulless white eyes and a long black cape, questioned with a growl.

"Miles?!" Mack exclaimed in offense, "No, I'm not goin' Miles! C'mon guys, is it Miles ta want a friend, or a medal, or a piece of pie once in a while? Is it Miles ta want more outta life?!"

"Yeessss," Zombie slurred.

"Mack, Mack, we get it—but we can't change who we are. And the sooner you accept that, the better your game and your life will be." Mack scowled and looked away from Clyde, despite how right he was.

"Hey," Zangief calmly chimed, getting Mack's attention, "One game at a time, Mack."

But the red masher still didn't agree.

"Now, let's close out with the Bad Guy Affirmation!" Clyde announced since it was time to end the meeting.

Soon, all members of Bad-Anon rose up and touched wheels, closing their eyes before chanting together, "I am bad, and that's good! I will never be good, and that's not bad! There's no one I'd rather be than me!"

But once again, Mack refused to join in with his fellow bad guys, as he just sat there in silence and gazed sadly into nothingness.

When the Bad Guy Affirmation was finished, the video game villains, sans Zangief who quickly grabbed another donut, started leaving the room while the lights were turned off.

"Hey, Zombie, don't forget your hatchets!" Clyde called, recalling the last few times the said undead forklift accidentally left his weapons behind. It was always awkward for his game afterwards. But luckily, Zombie didn't forget this time, and waved his hatchets around to show it.

And with nothing else to say, Mack reluctantly followed Zombie and the others out of the ghost room, through the maze of Pac-Car, and through the exit to Game Central Station.

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 **Yup, this is a Wreck-It Ralph parody! I've been watching it a lot recently and I just couldn't help it!**

 **Hope you enjoyed chapter one 'cause there are way more clever parodies ahead;)**

 **Beta Read by my beloved friend and Cars fan Agent Sandra Cartip. Thank you again, Sandra:)**

 **Until the next chapter, I'm TRikiD, bye-bye!**


	2. Chapter 2 - Party Masher

Chapter 2 - Party Masher

As soon as the other bad guys disappeared through the exit, Mack stopped and quickly glanced around to make sure no one was around, and he hastily made his way around a corner to pick up a pair of Cherry Oil Cans. Once he had his fruity oil, he sped up through the exit to meet the others waiting on a long train of platforms on a rail.

Zangief smiled and patted a spot next to him when he saw Mack, moving over quite a bit to make room for the big Semi. As soon as Mack was parked on the train, it jolted a bit before taking off down a dim chord-like tunnel, small flashes of electricity darting here and there.

"Pac-Car rail now arriving in Outlet Seven," a monotone female voice announced overheard once the train reached the end of the tunnel, and a bright light was seeping in from the other side of the room.

The Bad-Anon attendants all exited into Game Central Station, a very large and grand station made up of multiple outlets all connected to one giant surge protector.

But when Mack was the last one out, a bright red wall quickly flashed in the doorway and a loud buzzer went off. Mack instantly growled and rolled his eyes in frustration, especially when a transparent light blue Peerless GT appeared out of thin air. It was Finn McMissile, the old and _very_ annoying Surge Protector of the arcade.

"Step aside, Sir. Random security check," Finn ordered while pulling out his pen and clipboard, his voice was heavy with a British accent and dry tone.

"Random, my bumper! You _always_ stop me!" Mack complained.

"I'm just a Surge Protector doing my job, Sir," Finn sighed, "Name?"

"John Ratzenberger!" Mack exclaimed sarcastically, but Finn wasn't buying it.

" _Name_."

"Mash-It Mack…"

"And where are you coming from?"

"Uh, Pac-Car! Duh!"

"Did you bring any fruit oil with you?"

Mack's eyes snapped open in fear, and he immediately hid the two cans of Cherry Oil behind him. "Uh, nope! No fruit!"

"Ok, then. Where are you headed?"

"Fix-It Mater Junior."

"Anything to declare?"

"I hate you."

"I get that a lot." Finn closed his eyes as he finished writing down all the needed information. "Proceed."

And with a flash and a zip, Finn disappeared and Mack could finally pass, turning around slowly to make sure the Surge protector wasn't following him anymore. And once he knew the coast was clear, Mack pulled his Cherry Oil Cans out of hiding.

As he continued on his way to his game, Mack opened one of the cans and lazily sipped on the fruity oil, nonchalantly sending side glances to other characters that saw him coming ahead of time, and they all knew he was a bad guy. Most even whisper-shouted and ran away in fear.

"Bad guy coming!"

"Look out!"

"Stay out of his way!"

As quiet as they were trying to be, Mack still heard them all and rolled his eyes, getting more and more used to this kind of treatment. But he eventually walked into the center of the station, which was less populated by videogame characters, and he passed by some adspaces.

A few of them were screening that famous blue videogame character Sonic, the world's fastest airplane. And this time, Sonic's advertisement was giving any passersby a warning, "If you leave your game, stay safe, stay alert. And whatever ya do, _don't die_. Because if you die outside your own game, you don't regenerate. Ever! Game over!"

Mack ignored Sonic's warning for the most part, and he was just about to take another sip when he stopped in his tracks. Sitting next to the entrance of Fix-It Mater Junior was Guido and his gang; Guido's game was unplugged not too long ago, leaving the protagonist and few antagonists with no home and they were forced to live in Game Central station.

The red Semi slowly rolled up to the tiny characters, and the bright orange forklift was the first to look up at him with sad eyes. Guido's friends soon looked up too, and that's when Mack's righteousness took over.

"Here ya go, guys," Mack sighed with a smile, leaning down and setting the unopened can of Cherry Oil in front of them, "It's fresh, right from Pac-Car."

One after the other, Guido and his friends smiled at the can of oil and up at the hauler, but Mack had already continued driving to the entrance to his game.

Unfortunately, as soon as Mack crossed through the doorway, the same red wall flashed around him, and the same blue Surge protector was there in the blink of an eye for a "random security check."

"Name?" Finn demanded flatly.

"AAAGGHH!" Mack bellowed in anger.

Meanwhile, the Nicelifts of Fix-It Mater Jr. were having much more fun than poor Mack, as a huge party was thrown in the penthouse of the Nice Land Hotel. Every single Nicelift attended, along with a few outside videogame characters. With the dance floor at full rage, the disco ball was glimmering brightly, and Kool and the Gang's "Celebration Time" was playing loudly.

And as the party raged on, a very small and old train of karts emerged from the dark tunnel to Fix-It Mater Junior, and Mack had to sit in the caboose of the train because it was the biggest. But even though it was the biggest kart, the caboose was just barely able to hold someone as large as Mack; the said red hauler was always packed into it tighter than tuna in a can.

When the train lightly bumped the bumpers at the end of the tracks and came to a stop, Mack's sulking was abruptly interrupted by a large explosion. He glanced up and gasped when he saw beautiful multi-colored fireworks being launched above the building.

Mack grimaced when the first set of fireworks spelled out "We love you, Mater," and two fireworks shaped like Mater's face went off soon after. The red Semi squinted his eyes to see into the building, and he saw some strobe lights spelling something out on the wall.

"'Happy Thirtieth Anniversary'?" Mack read the words aloud, highly offended, "They're havin' a party without me!"

Mack swore he saw something else, so he squinted again, and he was even more shocked when he found the familiar large and round yellow car with a very big pie hole, as he flew across the buffet table.

"Pac-Car? They invited _Pac-Car_?! That cherry-cashing, dot-muncher isn't even in this game!" the masher shouted in anger, struggling to pull himself out of the caboose, and he quickly made his way to the celebratory building once he was free.

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Back inside the building, Mater was driving around to engage in many friendly conversations, as many of the Nicelifts complimented his awesome party.

"Mater!" Deanna, the light purple Nicelift with glasses, called in a sing-song way, "You're needed on the dance floor!"

Deanna then grabbed Mater's tire with her own, and pulled him onto the rainbow-tiled dance floor, where some more Nicelifts were waiting for him to join the dance. And unable to avoid such fun, Mater bounced before turning and dancing, swishing his hook around to the beat.

"Ooh, ooh! Fix-It Mater! Ooh, ooh! Fix-It Mater!" the Nicelifts dancing with him cheered while matching his moves perfectly. But right in the middle of Mater's groove, a loud knock suddenly erupted from the door.

"Oh, ah bet dat's Mario!" Mater cheered, leaning down to one of the Nicelifts with a smirk, "Fashionably late, dat son of a gun."

"I'll get it, Mater!" Gene, the black and white Nicelift and mayor of Nice Land, informed with a confident laugh, and he hastily made his way to answer the door for the famous Italian plumber.

But when Gene was expecting Mario, he quickly looked up to find that he was very wrong, as none other than Mash-It Mack stood in the doorway; the massive hauler could barely fit through the door, and he smiled nervously down at the mayor.

Gene screamed in terror, dropping his drink and slamming the door in Mack's grille before he could even speak.

"It's Mack!" Gene hissed. The entire room was immediately filled with shocked gasps, and the music and strobe lights were turned off.

"Mack?!" one Nicelift whisper-shouted.

"He'll ruin the party!" another Nicelift pointed out in fear.

"Hide the stemware!" a female Nicelift shrieked and disappeared into the crowd.

"Mater, get rid of him!" another Nicelift nervously demanded of the said tow truck while pulling his hook to get his attention.

"Right…a-ah'll go talk to 'm," Mater reassured softly, and slowly made his way out of the room, "Carry on with yer partying, everyone!"

Once Mater exited the room and closed the door behind him, he smiled politely up at Mack and tried his best to keep from quivering in the huge Semi's presence.

"M-Mack, what, uh, brings ya here?" Mater began gently, as to not offend the ill-tempered bad guy.

"Hey, Mater," Mack greeted kindly, "Just wanted ta check on you guys…saw, uh…a big explosion or somethin' over the building."

"Oh! Those was just fireworks," Mater informed nervously.

"Oh, fireworks! Phew!" Mack breathed dramatically, "S-Somebody's birthday, or…?"

"Weeelll…it's more of an anniversary…the thirtieth anniversary of our game actually, actually."

Mack purposely tried act dumbfounded, so that Mater wouldn't know that he was already aware and now greatly offended, "What?! Is that taday?!"

"Ah know, right?"

"I'm such a dummy with dates. Anyway, uh, congratulations."

"Why, thank ya, Mack. Right back at 'cha."

With a few shared chuckles, the tension in the air was quickly heavy with awkwardness, as the tow truck and the Semi truck went quiet and nervously fidgeted.

But before it could get any worse, the door opened and a very, _very_ small green Nicelift with a blank expression came out.

"Uh, Mater, just a heads up, they're gonna bring out the cake in a few shakes," the tiny green forklift informed flatly.

"Hey, Glenn," Mack greeted with a forced smile.

"Mack," Glenn acknowledged the said hauler before instantly retreating back to the party and slamming the door.

"Cake!" Mack cut in, "I heard about this cake stuff…never tried it, no one ever seems ta throw it out, so it never ends up in the dump, so I've never tasted it…I always wanted ta try cake!"

"Ah…don't suppose you'd wanna come in an' have a slice, would ya?" Mater reluctantly offered.

"Heyo, everybody!" Mack exclaimed happily after pushing Mater out of the way and bursting through the doors. Everyone turned their attention to Mack, as they never expected a bad guy to attend this party.

But Mack soon made it even more awkward when he accidentally rose too high on his axles from excitement, and he bumped the ceiling and created a large crack in it; the crack resulted in a large hole in the ceiling, and fell onto Mater below, crushing him and taking one of his lives.

Everyone gasped in horror as metro death music played and a wilting flower was clutched in his tires. But dying within his own game allowed Mater to instantly regenerate and bounce back into life.

"Ah'm ok, ah'm! Thin as a fiddle!" Mater quickly reassured, and multiple relieved sighs could be heard, "You all know Mack…"

"Evening!" Mack greeted with a wave of his tire and drove down the short ramp, but he accidentally broke it with his massive weight. But the red masher didn't let it get to him, as he continued to smile and greeted a few of the Nicelifts, "Evenin', Mel…Lucy…Don, Dana!"

" _Deanna_ ," Deanna corrected under her breath in annoyance.

"Big Gene!" Mack greeted with enthusiastic sarcasm when his attention finally landed on the said mayor.

"Why is _he_ here?" Gene inquired with a scowl while pointing an accusing tire at Mack.

"He's just here fer a slice a' cake," Mater replied with a sheepish smile.

"And, technically speaking, I'm a big part of the game," Mack added while leaning down and staring blankly down at Gene, "Why're _you_ here, Gene?"

"Oh, look! The cake!" Mater hastily cut in to end the shade between the two, and Mack smiled brightly and lightly tapped Gene before following Mater and the others to the other side of the room. Mary and another female Nicelift were slowly and carefully unloading a cake onto a table; the cake was almost as tall as them, and it was shaped like the Nice Land Hotel with sizzling candles and little fondant figurines of them all at the top.

"Well dadgum, Mary! You've _really_ outdone yersefl!" Mater complimented in awe, "Oh, and look! There's all of us at the top!"

"Each apartment is everyone's favorite flavor! Noah's is red velvet…" Mary began with confidence.

"Guilty!" Noah laughed from across the room.

"…and lemon for Lucy, drum cake for Jane, and-." But as Mary continued, Mack couldn't help but notice there was no figurine of his own on top of the cake. And when he finally noticed an angry and ugly-looking figuring of himself at the very bottom in a puddle of mud, the red masher was _not_ amused.

"Hey, Mary?" Mack rudely interrupted, "W-What's the flavor of that mud that I'm stuck in there?"

"Oh!" Mary exclaimed with realization, "I-It's chocolate."

"Chocolate, huh? Never been real fond of chocolate," Mack pointed out

"Well…I did not know that," Mary admitted.

"And, uh, one little thing I hate ta be picky about, but…I think this angry little guy right here might be a lot happier if ya just put 'm up here with everyone else," Mack went on with a forced smile while picking up his figurine from the chocolate mud, placing it on top and molding it to make it smile, "See that? Look at that smile!"

"No, no, no. You see, Mack, there's no room for you up here," Gene protested and hopped up onto the table, knocking Mack's figuring off the top and it landed perfectly back in the mud.

"Well, what about this? We can make room. We'll take turns, easy!" Mack chuckled while moving his figurine back to the top, and placing Mater's in the mud instead, earning gasps and worried murmurs from the Nicelifts.

"How 'bout we just eat the cake already?" Mater suggested in hopes of making it better before it got worse…but to no avail.

"Hang on! Mater needs to be at the top because he is about to win his medal," Gene explained firmly.

"Well, why don't we just take that medal and give it ta Mack for once? Would that be the end of the world, Gene?" Mack asked with a glare, taking the little fondant medal from its place between the candles and sticking it on his own figurine.

"Now you're just being ridiculous! Only good guys win medals! And _you_ , Sir, are no good guy!" Gene argued, raising his voice a bit, and putting the medal on Mater's figurine.

"I _could_ be a good guy if I wanted to, and I _could_ win a medal."

"Uh-huh. And when you do, come and talk to us."

"And then would ya finally let me be on top of the cake with you guys?!"

"If you won a medal, we'd let you live up here in the penthouse! But it will _never_ happen because you're just the bad guy that mashes the building!"

"No, I'm not." Mack was starting to shake, as his engine started to boil with rage.

"Yes, you are!" As soon as Gene took Mack's figurine from the top of the cake and smashed it back into the mud, Mack finally snapped.

"NO, I'M NOT!" Unaware of what really happened for a few seconds, Mack had accidentally smashed the cake with his front tire out of anger, splattering cake and frosting all over the walls and party guests.

Once Mack realized what he did, his scowl slowly turned to shame as he pulled his cake-covered tire from the pile of mush.

"Yes, you are," Gene spoke quietly while crossing his forks and glaring up at the masher. But Mack soon returned Gene's glare with another scowl.

"Alright, Gene. Ya know what…I'm gonna win a medal. Oh, I am gonna win a medal! The shiniest medal this world has ever seen, and it'll make Mater's medals wet their pants!" Mack began while backing out of the room, and stomped his tires to emphasize his point, "And goodnight! Thank you for the party!"

"Is he serious?" one of the Nicelifts asked once Mack was gone.

"Oh, please! Where's a bud guy gonna win a medal?!" Gene sneered in disbelief, " _Of course_ he's not serious!"

* * *

 **Told you there'd be more car puns and parodies;)**

 **Until the next chapter, I'm TRikiD, bye-bye!**


End file.
